the truth of the matter
by a few similes
Summary: He thought she was lovely, even as she refused.


**disclaimer:** i do not own pride and prejudice.

**title:** the truth of the matter

**rating:** T

**part: **1/15

* * *

"Hello, I'd like to speak to the owner of this establishment." William Darcy managed to force a friendly smile at the cashier girl. She was unimpressed with his effort and continued to lazily pack croissants into a pink box. "A Miss Elizabeth Bennet, am I correct?"

"She's in the back, sir." The girl - her name tag read, "Lydia" - pointed to a door beside a glass display of what appeared to be chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies.

"Would you like to try a few cake samples?" she asked, her tone carefully rehearsed politeness. "We have a few squares of lemon cake and most people think -"

"No, thank you," William said, interrupting a promising conversation on the topic of what others thought of the aforementioned lemon cake. He reached for his briefcase, strode behind the counter and through the door, expecting to walk into a small office.

Fitzwilliam Darcy is many things.

Surprised isn't usually one of them.

He walked into a kitchen.

He was surprised.

William had never discussed deals or signed contracts in a kitchen.

While he pondered why the cashier girl had misguided him into the kitchen, another girl - she was holding a very large tray of baked goods - hurriedly walked past him.

"Hello, would you happen to know the whereabouts of Miss Elizabeth Bennet? I believe we have an appointment scheduled today."

"Yes, of course I do," she smiled and offered a hand while balancing the tray on the other. William hesitated before he shook her hand, despite the flour and egg covering her fingers. "I'm Elizabeth. You must be Fitzwilliam Darcy." He nodded. She pointedly looked at his suit and briefcase, which were awfully out of place.

"You are the manager and owner of this bakery?" William asked, almost incredulous. Bennet's Bakery and Cafe was one of the most renowned tourists attractions of San Francisco. William was certain that she had the means to hire a larger staff. She could sit behind a desk and watch soap operas all day if she wanted to. "I believe we had an appointment?"

"I am and we do," she told him, as if the owner of any prospering, respectable business worked where one's hands got dirty. "Can you excuse me? I have to pack these cakes for Mrs. Rayleigh's birthday party. Traffic gets hectic at noon, you know?"

"Of course. I'll wait at the counter."

"Nonsense!" She gestured to him and walked out of the kitchen and to an old wooden table by a window. "Wait here. I'll be out in a minute."

* * *

During his wait for Elizabeth Bennet's return, William realized that "one minute" was only, and forever will be, a saying. "One minute" could be one hour. "One minute" could be two hours. "One minute" could be three hours. "One minute" could be days, weeks, months, or even years. "One minute", William realized, could be an eternity.

Luckily for William, Miss Bennet's "one minute" was three hours and 17 minutes and not an eternity.

"I made fresh coffee. Would you like some?" she asked. She had returned from the kitchen with a cup.

"No, thank you." William didn't want pleasantries or refreshments. He'd much rather skip the small talk and coffee. He told her so.

"Would you like cookies?"

"No, I don't like cookies." She raised her eyebrows until her forehead creased.

"What? Everyone likes cookies!"

"I'm afraid I do not like cookies, Miss Bennet."

"Call me Elizabeth. Have you tried our classic chocolate chip? Macadamian? Oatmeal and raisin?"

"No, I already told you I don't eat cookies." It was true. He did not indulge in foods of no nutritional value.

"How is that even possible?" she wondered.

"It's very possible."

"Didn't you eat cookies when you were younger? Warm cookies and cold milk after school? Everyone should enjoy something as simple as that."

"My mother was a dietician." Elizabeth was mortified, at least William thought she was, judging from her gaping mouth.

"I'm going to grab you a plate of cookies, okay? Cold milk, too. We just might have enough time to save you." William wondered if she was serious because she wasn't smiling. In fact, she looked rather determined.

"That's not necessary, Miss Bennet."

"Mister Darcy, please call me Elizabeth. Why not?"

"Then you may call me William. Once more, I don't eat cookies."

"You haven't tried my cookies," she told him. "As a matter of fact, I can convert you to an avid cookie enthusiast in the span of one bite. Try one."

"I'm not hungry."

"Your loss, Will." She laughed.

William didn't like being called "Will". He never allowed anyone to call him "Will".

"I'm so sorry about the wait, by the way." She tucked a stray curl behind her ear as she loudly sighed. "My sister mixed up addresses and the orders were sent to the wrong places. I spent the last hour calling clients and apologizing. It was exhausting."

"It's quite alright," William said, even though he would have very much enjoyed telling Elizabeth how having him wait three hours was the furthest thing from simply "alright". Punctuality was key in business.

"So, how can I help you?" She took a seat beside him and William noticed that her hands were clean. The fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling had her blue chipped nail polish glinting at the corner of his eye. She was close enough for him to count the stitches on her sweater. "You were vague about the subject of this meeting. I'm guessing you don't want to work here? If you do, we have to fix the cookie issue."

"No, I'm not looking for a job." William wondered why she thought he wanted a job at her bakery."I want to buy your bakery, Elizabeth."

She looked at him for a moment, her mouth opening, then closing, and then opening again. William hoped she would make this simple. He had been looking forward to having this meeting wrapped up as quickly as possible.

"I'm not selling." Her voice wavered and William, being the entrepreneur that he was, thought it was due to indecision.

"Your location in San Francisco is very strategic." He did not sugarcoat his reasons for his offer. It was indeed an ideal place for his next expansion. "I'm looking to expand my law firm here."

"I'm not selling, Will," she repeated. "I love this bakery. I've made it with my own sweat and blood. I'm not going to just give it up because you wanted to set up another corporate monster nest here."

"You name a price," he pressed. William wished he was more persuasive. "I have a blank check and I will see to it that you are more than compensated for selling."

"No, I'm not selling, Mister Darcy."

"Please think on it. Here's my card." He offered his business card. Elizabeth did not move to take it.

"I'm not selling. If you aren't going to be ordering anything, I'd like for you to leave. Thank you for the offer." She got up and shook his hand.

Whether she wanted it or not, William was intent on buying, even as he left the bakery.

* * *

**notes:** hi! so, uhm, this the first time i've posted something on here. please be gentle:)


End file.
